Mary Killen

Q. My mother, aged 87, has taken to forwarding me by email slightly risqué jokes. Her carer is the recipient of the jokes and reads them aloud to my mother, who then suggests she forwards them to me. I think this is an exercise in connecting but it has had the reverse effect as, due to the inappropriate content of these jokes, I am not sure how to react. Mary, what should I do?— C.D., Lavenham, Suffolk A. Next time you speak to the carer, apologise for not having acknowledged these communications. Sadly your computer is oversensitive to anything that seems like spam and puts it straight into the junk folder. Then ask to speak to your mother and share some more appropriate jokes with her. Q.

Q. My husband has always worked extremely hard and now does so from home — so I go to great lengths to make nice things for him to eat. Yet he takes five minutes, at most, to eat these elaborate and lovingly prepared dishes, and then immediately goes through to the kitchen and starts washing up — even though that’s now my job. I don’t mind so much at lunchtime but it is dispiriting to see him reverting to schoolboy habits (he was a boarder) at supper when I am looking forward to having a civilised conversation after a day without company. Mary, what should I do?— A.O., Sittingbourne, Kent A.

Q. I was instrumental in finding some much-needed work for a local retired secretary/PA when I recommended her for the transcription of a handwritten historic archive which is owned by a friend. This woman once worked for me and I know her to be completely fastidious. Now she has confessed that her Mac has ‘lost’ or accidentally deleted the contents of the lengthy document she was working on — a week’s work. The helpline says there is nothing to be done. Her self-confidence has taken a huge knock. Would it be correct for me to pay for this work to be completed a second time, since I recommended her (and also because she is broke)?— A.H., Edinburgh A. How kind of you to have tried to help.

Q. There is a Tube stop next door to my place of work but I now walk in each day. As I get close to the building, I often run into acquaintances who want to chat. Mary, is there an elegant way to cut short such conversations without causing offence? I can’t say that I will be late for work, as they know I own the business. — Name and address withheld A. Why not order a click-and-collect coffee from the nearest outlet? Everyone knows that late-comers disrupt the queuing system and receive a less enjoyable product. Rather than taking offence, would-be momentum-halters will instead empathise with your expressed frustration at not being able to stop for a chat. Q.

Q. Following the birth of our child we were deluged with cards, gifts and money from kind family and friends. Regrettably, our system for keeping track of everything failed in the case of one card which arrived several months after the birth. We cannot remember whether this contained a small enclosure of money or if it was ‘merely’ a card. To make matters worse, we have delayed sending a thank-you note as we have been unsure how to approach the situation and we are now embarrassingly late. We do not have a phone number for the individual concerned, who lives far away, and there are no obvious mutual friends to enlist to help. We struggle to think how to word a thank-you card that would be appropriate whether or not money was sent. Mary, can you help with our predicament?

Q. My husband and I have two single friends who we believe should be introduced. In days gone by, we would have held a dinner or drinks party in order to do so. But with all the lockdowns, it is proving hard to get them in the same room. To make matters more difficult, they are both conscientious types and have moved to their respective family homes in the countryside to offer support to their parents. How should we introduce them? A Zoom call seems so unromantic.— Name and address withheld A. Much better to ambush the couple by inviting them to attend Zoom drinks to celebrate some confected achievement of your own — e.g. ‘I’ve finally done my tax return.

Q. I have been offered a cottage, at minimal rent, on the estate of a friend of a friend who had got wind of my current unsatisfactory domestic arrangements. I am supposed to move in shortly but now I have looked more closely at the picturesque dwelling I find it is blighted by the typically low ceilings which characterise estate workers’ cottages. It is something that I — and our mutual friend — should have thought of. I am 6ft 6in and banging my head on beams is likely to be a major problem. How can I tactfully withdraw without making a fool of myself over the intemperance of my gushing acceptance when the offer was made — and particularly without upsetting my would-be benefactor? — Name and address withheld A.

From Joanna Lumley Q. We receive a huge number of Christmas cards every year. When I take them all down on 6 January I feel so guilty about throwing them away that I hoard them in carrier bags. Some I make into tags for next year’s presents, but hundreds of lovely and cheerful pictures seem destined for destruction. My small study is almost overflowing, as unfortunately I save birthday cards as well. Is there any way they could be re-used or made into something charming? Who should I contact, dear Mary? Do I need counselling? With festive but anxious greetings. A. Don’t even think of throwing them away. Stack them as neatly as possible and include within each year’s individual bundle a typed inventory giving full names of the senders and their relationship to you.

Q. I am extremely fond of an artist friend, despite the fact that I have never liked her work or bought any of it. I always had the excuse that it was too big for my house. Unfortunately she has given me an early Christmas present of one of her smaller paintings, about 2ft square, and clearly expects me to hang it where it can be seen by all. Mary, it is not to my taste but I do not want to undermine her fragile self-confidence by not hanging it. What is the solution? — Name and address withheld A. Take the painting to a framer and ask that a mirror in dusky Georgian glass be affixed to the back of it so that the artwork can be ‘reversible’. You can never have enough mirrors.

Q. Unlike my wife, I am tiring of Netflix. Wanting a project to occupy me during these long dark nights, I invested in a marvellous wooden jigsaw puzzle from Wentworth. The 1,000-piece fine art seascape arrived and I set up a table and chair in our library in anticipation of weeks of quiet gratification. I spent the first few evenings laboriously working on the edges but this week I have seen that there has been progress made without my input. My wife and I can only assume that the culprit is our cleaner of 35 years, thinking that by adding pieces she is ‘helping’. I know she would be offended if I say something — yet if I say nothing she will ruin the whole point of my project. Mary, what should I do?— R.E., Lancashire A.

Q. For many years my boss gave each member of his small team a very generous Christmas gift voucher from John Lewis. I was always able to put this to good use and looked forward to receiving it. Unfortunately he decided last year that these vouchers were a bit unfestive and instead we each received a large hamper from an upmarket grocer. While I know that some of my colleagues actually preferred the hamper, my husband and I were disappointed. Crystallised ginger, truffle crisps, mini Christmas puddings and jars of obscure paté sadly do not suit our perhaps unsophisticated palates, although we managed to regift most of it quite successfully.

Q. I have a delightful young goddaughter who, thanks to the virus, I have not seen since last year. Her next birthday is looming, but since she never thanked me for my present last year, I am disinclined to give another. However, there may be a mitigating factor. Last year while her mother and I were cheering her on in a hockey match, I handed the mother a bundle of cash to give her daughter on her birthday a few days later when she had an exeat. Now I wonder if the mother even remembered to pass it on. The trouble is I can’t ask her directly: first because, if she did remember, the girl will be in trouble for not having thanked me; second, the mother is chippy.— E.B., Ipswich, Suffolk A.

Q. Is there a tactful way to wind up a Zoom call when one of you has more time on their hands than the other? A friend, living alone in London, Zooms me on a regular basis. He is immensely good value — and as a successful stage actor is clearly missing the audience he would have were it not for lockdown. Much as I would love to be entertained by him for lengthy periods, I need to get things done while the children are at school. How can I halt his flow without wounding his ego? — M.N., Tetbury, Glos A. With a small amount of preparation you can enjoy this actor’s company without fretting about your chores. Answer the Zoom call while already at an ironing board. Ask if he minds if you start wading through a pile of laundry while you are chatting.

Q. I would welcome your advice on a tricky family matter. For my 70th birthday earlier this year my brother gave me a voucher for £100. This could be used as credit towards a drawing of my cat to be commissioned from an artist friend of his. I duly provided photos, only to learn that the £100 would represent just 20 per cent of the list price, and the balance to be paid by me would be £400. I am wondering whether my brother is doing his friend a favour at my expense — indeed in my most churlish moments I doubt whether my brother even paid £100 to his friend, and instead just negotiated a 20 per cent discount.

Q. An old friend offered to treat me to a birthday lunch, provided I choose and book the restaurant myself. (He has always hated admin.) On booking, the restaurant asked me for a £50 deposit — this to deter no-shows — and I was told this would be refundable on our arrival. When the bill was presented my friend characteristically just handed over his card without even glancing at it. The next day, on noting that my deposit had not been refunded, I rang up this agreeable local restaurant. It turned out there had been a misunderstanding. They had not refunded my account but had instead reduced my friend’s bill by £50. It’s not that I want the £50 back.

Q. A year ago we sent out 150 save-the-date notices for our wedding this December. We are still going ahead, even though we can now invite only 15 people. My problem is the wedding list. Do I still send one out? We feel some people may want to give us a present even though they will not be attending a party — godparents, for example — and quite possibly some of those who have been the recipients of more than generous wedding presents from us. — Name and address withheld A. It is one thing to return hospitality for dinner parties, but you cannot command goodwill where wedding presents are concerned. You will have to wait until cancelled guests enquire whether you have a list.

Q. I am running out of suitable responses to a friend who now has the slightest possible connection to one of our ancient seats of learning. He never mentions his own child (who is at a very new, very undistinguished university) but goes into endless detail about his girlfriend’s daughter who is in her final year at Cambridge. In particular he can’t resist sharing his delight at being allowed to drive down Trinity Street to drop off her luggage, and the excitement he feels every time one of the college servants doffs his hat and calls him ‘Sir’. Having listened to this same anecdote at least twice a term for the past three years, I no longer know how to respond without sounding rude. Mary, what should I do? — D.L., Suffolk A.

Q. Many years ago I was asked to officiate at a funeral for a family I did not know. As far as I was concerned the service went neither better nor worse than any other and afterwards I went along to what the undertaker used to call ‘the bunfight’ at the local pub. The mourners were facing the door and could see me come in; the widower however could not. As I approached, he began to tell the group why he wasn’t happy with the service and the things I had and hadn’t said. The guests were clearly mortified and I, not knowing what to do, simply stood like a statue right behind him. Eventually he finished speaking and I made a big thing of heading to the bar.